


Do I Let It Be? (No, You Tell Him Everything.)

by AbsolutelyNotAlex



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, McLennon, i suck at summaries, this is my coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 16:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsolutelyNotAlex/pseuds/AbsolutelyNotAlex
Summary: John and Paul have a massive fight during the recording of Abbey Road. Words are said. Some they'll regret. Others they won't.





	Do I Let It Be? (No, You Tell Him Everything.)

**Author's Note:**

> do not own the Beatles. Can you tell?  
I am also not claiming to be all-knowing. I will probably make mistakes. I do not know everything there is to know about the Beatles. It’s fanfiction, so if I don’t know something, I’m going to make shite up and go with that.

Paul sighed. “John. ‘Add a riff’ is not a solution to this problem.”   
“Stop bein’ so bloody uptight about it, McCartney. Sounds like shite as it is. Too plain.”   
“No it’s not, it sounds fine!” John ignored him.   
“George! Try adding a riff next take.”  
“How about this, Lennon? It’s my fucking song, I say it’s fine.” Paul internally cringed with every harsh word they said.

(The place is Abbey Road Studio 3. The time is one of the Beatles’ twelve hour recording sessions. John and Paul are currently having it out over Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. Paul does not want to fight with John, but John can be a bit of an arse at times.)

“Well how about this? I hate it, and I’m not fucking doing it.” And with that, John leaned his guitar up against the wall, picked up his coat, and walked out.   
They carried on recording, sans John. Paul waited for him to come back, but he never did. He started to worry that he may have actually lost John, for good. The thought shook Paul, because he didn’t know what he would do if John actually, really left. He was on edge for the rest of the session.

(Actually, most of the anger drains out of John as he steps out onto the street. He kicks himself for being too harsh, thinking he may have just opened a rift between them that’s too wide to ever fix. The thought jolts him back into reality, and leaves him so shaken that he has to sit down on someone’s front step. He’s itching to go back and apologize, but he doesn’t. A wizened looking old woman eventually opens the door and sees a rogue Lennon sitting on her doorstep. She invites him in for tea, knowing full well who he is, and he accepts.)

After George Martin called it for the day, Paul decided to head home, and then maybe to John’s place to apologize for being so harsh. Before he left, though, he carefully packed up John’s guitar; his conscience wouldn’t let him leave it propped up hastily against the wall. Alone, he looked around at the empty studio, and was compelled to sit down at the piano. He noodled about for a bit, trying to clear his head, and then something snapped and Paul was actually fucking crying because what if he and John can’t just get past this. The one person he was closest to, hell, the person he loved had just walked out on him.   
Wait, loved? Paul thought for a moment. Maybe he did. They all loved each other, in a way, but his friendship with John was different. He just hadn’t figured out why until then. Maybe there just weren’t words to describe what he and John had. 

(As promised, the woman makes John tea, and asks what’s on his mind. When he asks how she knows he’s upset, she says, “Oh, don’t give me that, Lennon. I know that look you’ve got,”  
Something in the way she says it, it reminds John of Mimi in her rare fits of compassion; so much so that he tells her everything, overflowing with words and emotions like a boiling pot left on the burner long enough that it all bubbles over. John even tells her about Paul, the way he’s been pining after him for years, but he never sees it. He makes it about halfway through before the tears come, and she doesn’t judge him, the rough John Lennon with a fuck-it-all attitude, she just gives him a handkerchief and lays her old, calloused hand on his shoulder as he cries. After he calms down a bit, he looks up at her and asks, “What do I do?” And for a moment, he looks frightfully akin to a small helpless child. She gently responds with, “Tell him.”   
“Tell him what?” Another tear escapes John’s eye.  
“Everything.”)

After a while Paul stood up from the piano. His hands shook, but he grabbed his coat anyways and walked out the door, still unsure of where he was going. He heard church bells in the distance, and sighed.   
“Mum,” he whispered to himself, “what do I do? Do I let it be?” Paul tipped his head back and looked at the sky. A few more tears rolled down his cheeks, the ones that John always said made him look like a baby. He started walking, automatically heading towards home. He figured he needed to wash his face and comb his hair anyways. Hopefully John would be home by the time he was done. 

(Eventually, John stands up. The woman tells him that her name is Annie Ellison. She gives him her phone number, he hugs her. She makes him promise to come by for tea again, and he is reminded again of Mimi, who he decides he’ll call when he gets home, and maybe pay a visit to. He says goodbye to Mrs. Ellison, and starts towards home.)

When he got home, Paul trudged through the door and flopped rather ungracefully down on the couch, facefirst. He lay like that for a while, before getting up to finally wash his face. The cold water was enough of a shock to calm him down a little, and he dragged a comb through his hair, but he couldn’t bother to meticulously fix it like he did most days. If John were there, he would’ve shoved Paul’s shoulder saying, “What’s the matter princess, too lazy to comb your hair properly today?” But he was painfully aware that John wasn’t there, and Paul couldn’t help feeling like it was his fault. He put the comb down, picked up his jacket, and started towards John’s place. 

(John does indeed call Mimi when he gets home, and says he’ll come visit when they get done recording the album. When he gets off the phone, he realises he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s home. It’s also then that all of today’s events hit him like a steel toed boot to the stomach. He’s just about to go get a bottle of whiskey when he hears a knock on the door. He opens it, and Paul is standing in front of him, looking dishevelled. There are shadows under his eyes, and John is sure they weren’t there that morning, because over the years he’s studied Paul, and how could he not have noticed. It isn’t poetic, he doesn’t pull him in and kiss him or wrap him in his arms. He just stands there, ready to let him say his piece.)

Paul wasn’t expecting an answer from John, so when he opened the door and didn’t slam it in his face, Paul was shocked. He didn’t think he should ask if he could come in, so he didn’t. He just stood on the doorstep.   
“I think we need to talk,” Paul said. His voice broke on the last word, and he hated himself for it. In that moment, John looked more human than Paul had ever seen him. He wasn’t trying to be tough, or sarcastic, or anything really. He was just John, stripped bare of all his defenses by something Paul was oblivious to.   
“Do you wanna come in?” John asked. Paul told himself he was imagining the fear he heard in John’s voice. Human or not, Paul wasn’t enough to make John nervous. 

(John tells Paul to sit, hating that he’s so scared of what James fucking Paul McCartney has to say. He hates how Paul keeps his eyes on the floor the whole time, how he can barely even look at John. He hates everything about the situation, wishing they didn’t have to be there in the first place.)

Paul kept his eyes on the floor, unsure of what to say. Finally he blurted, “Why’d you walk out today?”   
He immediately regretted it, and started to panic, but it died down when John muttered, “Because I’m an arsehole.”  
“Can we fix this?”  
“Can we?”  
Paul put his head in his hands. He didn’t respond; what do you say in a moment like that?   
“I had tea.” John said suddenly. “After I…” he trailed off.  
“It’s okay.”   
John swallowed and continued. “After I walked out.”

(John proceeds to tell Paul the story of Mrs. Ellison.   
Paul asks, “Why are you telling me this?” And then John tells him everything, just like she said to. He tells him about how he didn’t know if they could just walk away from this, how he felt like he had burned a bridge. Paul tells him how afraid he was that he’d pushed John away, that he’d finally lost him for good. They both feel like crying by the end, but they can’t, because their eyes are wrung dry of tears for the day.)

Once again, Paul hung his head. “I’m sorry.” He practically whimpered.  
“I’m sorry too.” Said John.   
Paul thought about the other thing he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was John who broke the silence.   
“Can I say something crazy?”  
“Only if I can too.”  
“You go first. I think my crazy might be related to your crazy.”  
Paul took a deep breath and swallowed. “I… I think- I think I might… I think I’m in love with you. And it scares the hell out of me.”   
John didn’t answer, and the tears finally came, rolling down his cheeks two at a time, as if the floodgates had been opened. Then, so quiet he almost missed it, “Really?”  
He nodded sadly, and something slammed into him. John. Two arms wrapped around his waist, and he twined his own arms around John’s neck, burying his face in John’s shoulder. Paul shook, and he thought he was sobbing, but it was John, who was clinging to him as if Paul was his only lifeline. In between sobs, John managed to choke out, “I love you too.”

(John does love Paul, has for years now, and he almost can’t believe that Paul loves him, so he holds him. He holds him as though if he doesn’t, Paul will slip through his fingers and he’ll lose him forever. The pair holds each other for a few minutes more, and it’s enough.)

Epilogue:

Paul placed the flowers on the grave, then pressed a kiss to his fingers and touched the headstone.   
“I love you, mum.” He said.   
He thought about when he had said those same words to John, standing in Lennon’s living room. Since then, it was how they ended every conversation or phone call when they were alone. Paul sighed and walked away from his mother’s grave. 

(John returns to Mrs. Ellison’s for tea, as he had promised he would, and tells her about Paul. He tells her how she reminds him of his Aunt Mimi, and she just smiles. He actually does visit Mimi, and though she reprimands him, “John, look at how long your hair has gotten,” she is pleased to see him, and begrudgingly tells him so. At the end of the visit, he tells her he loves her, and she’ll swear she sees a tear fall down his face. He leaves and heads towards Mrs. Ellison’s house where he said he would meet Paul. She makes them both lunch, and they walk home hand in hand.)

-fin


End file.
